Biloxi the cat.

Wait a minute...are we having a baby?

Biloxi, the cat, loves the crochet. He cuddles up next to me on the couch, lays his little fuzzy orange head on my leg and purrs away as I swoop, hook, dive, and pull (it's getting much better, by the way). Ev arrived home from work to find Biloxi and I in this serene position, xmas tree lit up, fire blazing the fireplace, house hunters blasting on the big screen. It was a like a Norman Rockwell xmas card or something.
"Wow, this is different," he commented.
Which caused me to become slightly annoyed. Like he typically returns from work to find me guzzling Pilsner and rolling joints or something? I can play the domesticated role. I just choose not to.

Nice house. Never get too attached - we could move tomorrow

I digress. Back to Biloxi, the cat. Every now and then, he loses it and attacks the crochet - completely destroying the serene Norman Rockwell xmas card moment, biting at the yarn, causing me to curse and toss his fuzzy, 20 pound (for serious) body off the couch. He leaves the room, regroups, and returns a few minutes later to calmly observe the process again. I think it's a great stress reliever for him. And, trust me, he could really use a good stress reliever.

Biloxi, the cat, has just completed his 32nd move in his 10 years of life. Biloxi "chose" Ev and I 10 years ago at a little pet store in Biloxi, Mississippi (hence the name, "Biloxi.") We had intended to purchase a female cat so we held and cuddled Biloxi's sisters, attempting to determine which one was the right kitten for us. Ev was drawn to the little orange male kitten (probably because Ev's orange...and male too). He held the little guy in the palm of his hands. They immediately bonded, but I was quite set on a female cat.

Man I hope Ev doesn't get traded today.

"Gross. What's that smell?" Ev held out his hand to reveal a tiny piece of kitten poo. His new orange buddy shit in his hand! That was the deciding factor. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is. The little orange kitten became ours. He instantly became "Biloxi, the traveling cat." Since that day, Biloxi has faithfully followed Evan and his hockey career to 8 different states in the US as well as England and Scotland. Biloxi, the cat, was in possession of a European Union passport (for serious), quarantined at London Heathrow airport (24 hours for possession of catnip), smuggled into "no pets allowed" condos and hotels, and endured a few 14-hour flights overseas (in a huge pet carrier with a sign that read, "My name is Biloxi. I am scared. Please be nice to me.") He's a trooper. Like being the cat of a professional hockey player wasn't shitty enough, he's now the cat of a couple of 30-somethings with a fear of commitment to location. That's what I call it. Like clockwork, Ev and I get this overwhelming urge to move (somewhere...anywhere) approximately every 2 years. We get bored, I guess. Biloxi, the faithful friend, reluctantly gets shoved in his little carry-on box and follows along. With each move, Biloxi takes a few days to settle in, slinking with his belly to the ground, eyes darting quickly from side-to-side like he's dodging snipers. Poor little dude.

Me and Evs won the cup in Scotland. No biggie.

Christmas with Ev in Texas. I love dressing up for xmas.

I love England. Cheerio!

What? We're moving again? Can't you rejects hold down a job?

So, you know what? If watching the crochet calms his furry little nerves, then by all means, watch away. Perhaps I can teach him how to crochet (there's that whole "no thumbs" issue though). Janna: the baby blanket may have a little bit of cat spit on it, but I hear that will help your baby to build resistance, ensuring that he doesn't develop allergies to cats. So realistically, I'm helping keep your child warm whilst preventing pesky cat allergies. You're welcome. :)

Check out my first 2 squares. Grandma says I need 12 squares. I'm hoping the baby is very small and only requires 6.

Note: right square was my first attempt. I am improving.
Which means that right square is no longer good enough. Damn.